


The Road Not Taken

by crazyjane



Series: Shinbyeong [4]
Category: SHINee, VIXX
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Music, Musicians, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 00:45:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16460222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyjane/pseuds/crazyjane
Summary: An arm shot out, blocking his way. Momentum carried him into it, a long-fingered hand splaying across his chest. ‘Wait,’ said a soft, almost feminine voice next to his ear. Startled, Hongbin glanced up - straight into the eyes of the watcher. ‘This isn’t your path tonight.’... ‘You are almost lost,’ said the watcher. ‘Go home, Hongbin.’He knows my name. It should have filled him with fear, but it made him warm instead. ‘What you seek waits for you.’





	The Road Not Taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [undernightsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightsky/gifts).
  * Inspired by [My Stolen Heart, My Crooked Fate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16362659) by [crazyjane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyjane/pseuds/crazyjane). 



> This short piece is a one-shot alternative ending to chapter 2 of _My Stolen Heart, My Crooked Fate_. 
> 
> Gifted to undernightsky, who correctedly identified the picture of the 'watcher' in the original story as belonging to Lee Taemin, of SHINee. (Hope you like it!)

Hongbin never remembered the name of the club - if it even had one. Just another shabby basement in Jongno, bad acoustics and overpriced drinks, and his stranger had, apparently, succumbed to nerves and failed to appear. After he’d gone to all the trouble to look irresistible, tight leather pants, a sheer, black tank, just enough eyeliner. Going home was out of the question; Hongbin was too keyed up after a day of fan meets when, yet again, he’d been the target of Hakyeon’s affections. (Stupid and soft, he’d actually smiled when the leader stroked his face and sang to him.) Threading his way through to the bar, he downed shot after shot of ice-cold soju, grimacing against the burn in his throat. It raced through him, loosening his limbs, letting the beat get inside him and pull him to the middle of the room. _To hell with it._ If he couldn’t fuck he’d dance. He let himself go, threw his head back, and surrendered to the music.

There were eyes on him, watching him spin, roll his body. He dropped his head, swayed, hands drifting down his chest, over his thighs, just skirting the growing bulge in his pants. Swivelled his hips, curled in on himself, jerked upright, hands flying up to slide over his throat, clasp his eyes, clenched his fists in his own hair and pulled, stretching high and undulating. Heat coiled low in his stomach, drunkenness and desire winding through his whole body; he felt like sin. Behind the black mouth mask, he grinned. _Yes. Look at me. I’m right in front of you, and you have no idea who I am._

A hand snaked around his waist, pulled him backwards against another body, tall, well-muscled, so much bigger than he was. Hongbin closed his eyes and laughed, low in his throat. There was a voice by his ear, barely audible through the music: ‘ - _eat you alive_ ’.

He hooked a finger into his mask and yanked it to one side. ‘Do it,’ he growled, rotating his hips against the hardness pressing into him. ‘Right here, right now.’

A hand cupped his groin, circled. ‘Everyone can see you,’ purred the voice. Hongbin shuddered. ‘Look.’ He dropped his arm, slid his hand over the one at his crotch, pressed harder. Opened his eyes. A small space had cleared around them, just enough to allow an unobstructed view to those nearest. Some gazed openly; others, dancing with partners, darted sidelong glances towards him. One or two actually turned away, either sickened or embarrassed. Hongbin didn’t care which.

‘That one wants you.’ The man behind him nudged Hongbin’s head to the side. There, just visible behind a trio of flushed young men. White-blond hair, almost glowing under the lights, long fringe hanging over his eyes. One of the men stepped in close to his friend, and Hongbin saw clearly. Exquisite, all cheekbones and slim hips and long, loose limbs, barely moving but Hongbin saw the muscles shift and flex, thought, _dancer_. And on the heels of that, _Hakyeon_. Frowned, ground himself against the man behind him, hissed at the surge that went through him as the watcher pinned him with an intense, hungry stare. _Those eyes_ … He recognised them, they belonged to the man who he thought had stood him up, who’d sent him just a closely cropped picture of his eyes, half-lidded but so clearly saying, _take me_. Who hadn’t been able to go through with it. For a moment he entertained the notion of slipping free, stalking the watcher across the club and pushing him up against the wall. The man behind him ran his tongue over Hongbin’s ear, murmured, ‘Want to fuck you.’ 

The one rule he hadn’t broken, never really been tempted to break. Had never wanted to be that vulnerable, no matter how often he’d fantasised about it. But he was drunk, and painfully hard, and heating up under the watcher’s gaze and the stranger’s hands. Threw caution to the wind, groaned, ‘What are you waiting for?’ Then the man was shoving him, steering him towards a door marked ‘Private’, past the watcher (who followed him all the way with those eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth, colour high). _Had your chance_ , thought Hongbin, and looked away.

An arm shot out, blocking his way. Momentum carried him into it, a long-fingered hand splaying across his chest. ‘Wait,’ said a soft, almost feminine voice next to his ear. Startled, Hongbin glanced up - straight into the eyes of the watcher. ‘This isn’t your path tonight.’

Instinctively, Hongbin bridled. He opened his mouth to say, _my choice, who the fuck do you think you are_ , but he couldn’t make a sound. The man behind him pushed up to the watcher, aggressive, hand out ready to strike. The eyes blinked once, shifted away from Hongbin (and suddenly he could breathe again), focused on the man. 

‘Go,’ said the watcher. Such a slight body, so much shorter than the man, _he’s going to get killed_ , thought Hongbin. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d moved between them. ‘Go now. He is not for you.’ To Hongbin’s complete astonishment, the man lowered his arm. A look of confusion crossed his face, as though he’d forgotten what he’d been about to do. 

The watcher stepped around Hongbin, close to the man, tilted his head up to stare directly at him. ‘ _I see you_ ,’ the watcher said, a strange echo in his voice. ‘I know what you are. I warn you once.’ 

Nodding once, the man turned, moved back into the crowd, the watcher’s eyes following him. Hongbin gaped. _What the hell, what’s going on, you_ warned _him?_ He tried to speak, swallowed dry, throat clicking. Tried again. ‘What are you doing? How did you - who are you?’ He reached out and grabbed the watcher by the arm. 

The movement was unhurried, just a slow turning of the head. The watcher’s eyes lifted, and Hongbin almost recoiled from the intensity of his stare. It wasn’t the same. Before it had been hungry, drinking in the sight of him dancing. Now the eyes regarded him with an impossible, ancient compassion, and Hongbin’s pulse jumped. 

‘You are almost lost,’ said the watcher. ‘Go home, Hongbin.’ _He knows my name_. It should have filled him with fear, but it made him warm instead. ‘What you seek waits for you.’ The watcher cupped Hongbin’s face with one hand and slid the mask down, leaned close and kissed him. Without thinking, Hongbin opened his mouth, kissed back. He breathed in and felt something flowing through him, bright, pure, loving. He trembled, tears coming to his eyes. The watcher slowly ended the kiss; Hongbin wanted to reach for him, never move from this place, be kissed by him forever. ‘I’m sorry,’ said the watcher. ‘I am only here for this moment. Go home. Know that I love you.’

He blinked, and suddenly, Hongbin was standing in front of a young man with merry eyes (Hongbin had seen him before, but where), who reached up and tapped him on the nose. ‘Time for me to go!’ and, with a smile that held nothing but joy, the boy blew him a kiss, stepped backwards into the crowd, and was gone, leaving Hongbin staring, thoughts whirling.

_What was that? Who - what just happened to me? His eyes … that kiss …_ Nothing made any sense. He looked out at the dim space, smoke haze and the sour smell of alcohol sweated out, clusters of people dancing with drinks in their hands, trading kisses, men grinding against each other, couples in the darkest corners. The ghost of an accidental kiss, the memory of warm arms around his bare torso. _What am I doing?_

_Go home, Hongbin._

He turned his back, walked down the hall and up the stairs, through the exit into the laneway. Stood still, head back, breathing in the night air, the memory of the watcher’s kiss fading from his mind. Smiled, dropped his phone on the concrete and smashed it.


End file.
